


The Space Between Two Green Mountains

by AbelQuartz



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Bed & Breakfast, Changing Clothes, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Kissing, Mental Health Issues, Road Trips, Sleepovers, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbelQuartz/pseuds/AbelQuartz
Summary: Taking place some time after Steven’s initial departure, Connie and Steven return home from dinner to his Green Mountain bed and breakfast stop. Maybe it’s time for another little sleepover. Maybe it’s time to talk.(Anonymous Tumblr request <3)
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	The Space Between Two Green Mountains

The sound of the Dondai gently rolling against the gravel driveway was satisfying to Steven’s ears, more pleasant than the crunch of blacktop. Everything about the night was pleasant right now. The bed and breakfast had its outside lights dimmed, bright orange against the dark woodwork. The sunset had been like that an hour ago, settling in the oaken valley into its deep purples, blackness spread overhead. Steven killed the headlights, turning with a sigh to Connie in the passenger’s seat.

“Sure Lion’s gonna be okay without you?” he chuckled.

The girl had stretched her arms over her head, and answered Steven with a gentle huff of exertion as she pulled her muscles. Connie’s sweater rolled over her shoulders, and she pulled it back as she settled into the car. The paper takeaway box rustled in her lap.

“C’mon, Steven, you know Lion does his own thing. He’s probably asleep with Cat Steven right now.”

“Every time she’s on top of him, Garnet sends me a picture. I can’t even be mad at her for waking me up.”

“That’s what you get for sleeping with a phone!”

“I have alarms! I have scheduling — things! You know how it is!”

The seatbelts unclicked to the sound of teenage giggling, and they stepped out of the car together. Steven walked around to Connie as she stared down the valley. The wooded road leading out to this place didn’t show the openness of the field, the hidden nature of the mountains behind it all. The boy pushed his hands into his pockets as Connie breathed a sigh.

“It’s weird, having you so close back to the east coast again,” Connie murmured. “I know it’s a few hours away, but it still seems like you’re coming — coming home, I guess.”

“Couldn’t book a place without some fall foliage. Tis the season and all that.”

“I don’t know, I would have liked to spend some time warmer with fall, now that you have the option. But I can’t deny that Green Mountain’s a beautiful state.”

Steven pulled on the edges of his jacket and felt the gentle night breeze roll up into his sleeves. There weren’t any signs of frost on the windows yet, but the nights were getting colder, giving more and more justification to his long-sleeved pajama pants. 

“I kinda like the fall. My favorite season’s still spring, allergies excluded.”

“I’ve always been a winter girl,” Connie said, turning to him. “Remember that one time, when we were kids? And we watched the snow fall from the couch at my place?”

Of course he did. It had been beautiful and haunting, a silent world where they could break the rules for the first time. With Greg Universe resting his aching body on the other couch, Steven remembered looking between Connie and the window, knowing that she knew she wasn’t supposed to be up right now, knowing they would have to leave each other eventually, but that this time was what they had. Warm in the comforter, Steven remembered watching the snow piling up on the vertical glass, millimeter by millimeter, flake by flake, until he had fallen into a dreamless sleep, waking up to see that Connie was gone.

“Yeah,” he said softly.

His hand twitched in his pocket. Before he could act on the urge to hold Connie by the waist, she had already turned to the back seat of the Dondai and opened the passenger’s side door. With the food balanced in her left hand, she reached in and pulled out her cinch bag and swung it over her shoulder. Steven blinked.

“Where did you get that?”

Connie turned with a raised eyebrow as she closed the door. “I put it in there when Lion and I first warped here. Didn’t you see me wearing it?”

“I guess I forgot,” Steven said, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “What, um, is it?”

“Basic overnight stuff. Pajamas, toothbrush, no defibrillator thank goodness.”

She came closer and bumped Steven in the shoulder with her elbow. He hardly felt it as he processed what she was asking, and his lungs filled with a deep breath as his cheeks filled with blood. Before he could ask for the specifics, Connie giggled.

“C’mon! It’s just like a sleepover! Except we have a whole little place, and we don’t have Gems or parents or cats of any shape and size barging in.” She raised her hand and placed it, more gently this time, onto her boyfriend. “And we can talk.”

There probably was more to talk about than Steven wanted to admit, about so many more things than he could recall off the bat, and his first reaction was to duck his head shamefully. The first incident that came to mind was the breakdown in Cave on the road, after a particularly tumultuous therapy call, and the resulting collision that had followed between Steven’s car and an abandoned shed, plus the damage to the local boulders. More than a few crying messages had ensued after then, with a smattering of radio silence before he came back to social media. Talking was always better in person. Time with Connie was always better with touch. Steven let his hands fall out of his pockets. A sleepover would be fun. Maybe it was a little twee considering what teenagers would do otherwise, but it was something that mattered to them.

“Do your mom and dad know you’re spending the night with me?” Steven asked. 

“They don’t. Because you know what they’d say. Space adventures? Sure, that’s almost educational. But boys? Mercy me.”

Steven couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Priyanka Maheswaran’s inner workings imagining her daughter in such a scandalous situation. Interestingly enough, Steven thought with a start, they actually had had an unapproved sleepover, their first night on Homeworld in Pink Diamond’s chambers. Did that count? Maybe it didn’t count.

“Well, the bathroom’s kinda rustic, but we can get PJ’d up and ready for bed whenever,” Steven said. He raised his hand to Connie’s, and brought them down together. “The internet’s not great but I figured out the cable and how to get my phone to cast on the TV. There’s a bunch of VCR movies, too, but they’re...mweh.”

“Next time, I’ll bring my laptop and we can stream something for real, then.”

Next time. As they walked towards the door, and as Steven released Connie to fish in his pocket for the key, it occurred to the boy that they really could do this whenever they wanted to. Lion could go anywhere, and Steven could drive practically anywhere on the continent if he got his passport somehow, or they could just use Gem warps. But it wasn’t the same as manual transportation. Cross-country driving has a granular mental hallmark, the sensation of gritty realism wherever one traveled. It was the only way Steven could bring himself to romanticize things like expensive gas or truck-stop bathrooms.

Inside, the single bed was as unmade as it had been this morning. Steven hadn’t been expecting company. He had cleaned up his breakfast and left the bathroom in a vague state of cleanliness, but he knew his dirty clothes were somewhere in there. As Connie stepped onto the carpet to admire the oil foliage painting hanging over the bed, Steven blanched at the thought of his three-day-trip underwear and the smell it must have had hanging over the towel rack all day.

“You know what, um, I’m gonna use the bathroom?” Steven said, edging behind Connie. “I think my pajamas are in there, so I’m just going to change there, and you change here, and we’ll be all set?”

Connie nodded as she tossed her bag onto the bed and placed the food on the desk under the windowsill. “Fine by me!”

It took no time at all for Steven to squeeze into the bathroom and gently shut the door behind him. Thank goodness the manual lock was relatively quiet, and the boy breathed a sigh as he let out the embarrassed tension. The bathmat was still damp from the morning, although his towel was mostly dry, if askew, on top of the shower curtain rod. Steven arranged the sink contents, straightening his toothbrush and toothpaste and brush, then rolling up the extension cord to the hair dryer. Gently, he plucked his boxers from the towel rack, paused, then leaned in for a quick sniff. To his lack of surprise, they smelled as if he had been indeed wearing them on the road for three days. 

“Blurgh.”

Well, onto the side of the sink they went. Steven undressed quickly, hanging up his clothes on the same empty rack, eyeing his wadded pajamas that were on top of the toilet seat. Until Connie had suggested that she come in, there really hadn’t been any reason to stop living with a little laziness, a tiny bit of slobbery, as long as he took care of himself. His worst moments of that summer after the proposal had been too much, certainly, but a little bit of untidiness that could be undone wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Steven left no traces, and that’s what mattered. There was no mess of his own he wouldn’t un-clutter. 

That’s all it was, clutter. Visualizing his mind as space wasn’t perfect, but it allowed for him to be able to see and conjure up parts that he could do and undo, unclogging the negative feelings, lifting the rocks and hurdles of small affairs. In the metaphor of the room, there would always be stains on the carpet, cracks in the wall that needed spackle, and other messes that he couldn’t clean up alone. Some projects he could do himself, though — like putting on his pajamas. He didn’t wear them that much on the road, but everything probably needed a wash soon. Coin-operated laundromats were a dime a dozen even in the smaller cities. And he was running out of this cycle’s clean socks as well. Steven sighed as he pulled them down once more, pulling up a minute or so later and washing his hands. 

With his clothes in a ball, Steven unlocked the bathroom and stepped back out to the bedroom. He turned the corner as Connie pulled down her pajama shirt, sitting on the side of the bed, the edge of her black brassiere disappearing under an old charity marathon shirt. She stood up and stretched. They almost matched in a way, with soft pants and t-shirts, Steven’s yellow and blue to Connie’s teal and pink. Her pants looked fuzzy, but not in an itchy craft-store variety. The girl looked at Steven as he came out. It took a moment for him to realize he was standing still. 

“You didn’t drown, did you?” Connie teased.

“Nope, still...still alive.”

The end of the bed had a strange wooden footboard that barely raised up past the end of the mattress. Connie hopped up onto the bed and cleared the board, giving a small  _ hup _ under her breath as she bounced for a moment. Her hands pressed into the bed, fingers curling in approval.   
  
“This thing’s really soft. Almost too soft. Are you getting enough sleep on this thing?”

“Connie, I’m used to sleeping in the back of a car. Any bed is the height of luxury.”

“Oh, come now,” she scoffed, “this is not the height of luxury.”

“Alright, then, enlighten me!”

“Well, I’m about five-nine-and-a-half, so—!”

Steven snorted and let his clothes fall to the ground as he slid over the duvet and towards Connie. The boy turned lengthwise, then let himself fall back onto the bed. Everything was soft, Connie was right, and he liked it this way. Any kind of mattress was fine. The bed he had been sleeping on for the first years of his life was second-hand, and before that it was a sleeping bag in a van. The life cycle of his resting places wouldn’t be consistent until he was in the ground.

Oh. That was a bad thought. Steven’s face fell as he stared at the ceiling. The comfort of the bedroom turned into a silent place. He didn’t belong here. The road called to him, begged him to move on, to go somewhere, for goodness sake, to do something with his life. Rest was a prison. Laziness was a mortal sin. Steven felt his arms move to rest on his stomach as the sound encroached upon him. He might as well not move from here. It was all —

“STEVEN!”

“Wha, what?”

“Steven, I just called your name, like, three times!”

The boy turned to a blurry Connie leaning over him. He sniffed, wiped his eyes, and pushed himself into the softness of the bed, grunting as he tried to sit up. Connie’s hand practically slapped the center of his chest and forced him back down. No sense in fighting back. He was surprised enough to fall and jiggle both of them on the bed. Connie sighed then pulled Steven’s right arm away from his body. Scooting down, she laid with her head on his bicep, one arm tucked between them, one arm draped over his chest.

“This is why I’m worried about you,” Connie murmured. 

“I have people I can call. I’ve called you, and dad, and the Gems, and my therapist, a bunch of times.”

“I’m not worried about the times that you call. I’m worried about the times you don’t.”

Steven didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Thanking her for worrying was at the very least counterproductive and most likely just plain out of touch. He couldn’t deny that he needed help when he went from smiling and borderline flirtatious to completely ignorant in a matter of seconds. Before he could stop himself, his mouth was moving again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry.”

“It didn’t used to be this bad. It hasn’t happened when I’m driving, not yet, but I’ll be in a park, or on a hike, and it almost feels like I’m sleeping. But everything is buzzing, and I have thoughts, I-I have bad thoughts.”

He had been upfront about the bad feelings before, but never about death, not in so many words. Nobody had sat in on his therapy sessions. His father and Connie drove him to them before he could drive himself, and that led to some discussions about progress in the time that followed. The specifics were between him and the doctor, kept private, kept secret. Nobody knew about the wonderment that came with it all. Was that for the best? Should he tell her?

Not now. There was so much for her to worry about with him already. And as Steven stared up at the ceiling, his mouth twisted into a contemptuous, bitter line. It wasn’t even a plan. Even a cursory search on the internet had shown the warning signs of people like him, of what happened and what to look out for, as if he was some exotic bird and there were guides on finding him in the most destructive plumage of the season. He hated reading about it, and he couldn’t stop. 

“I need you to know that you can talk to me about it all,” Connie said softly. “I can’t...fix anything, and I...might not even be able to help. But I want to release that pressure, because you’ve been down that road where it builds, and builds, and it hurt you.”

“I’m not going to turn into a monster again,” he snapped, shutting his mouth for a moment. “I… I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Even if something that terrible never happens again, that doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. You don’t deserve to be hurt. I never want to hurt you again.”

Steven turned his head down in confusion. Looking back to the beach, he could feel Connie’s reassurance, the way she had walked with him, the way she wanted to stay. Was that what she was talking about? The top of Connie’s head was turned; he couldn’t see her face. He turned his face back up to the space above. A singular round ceiling light looked down on him, artificially asking what he could do next. The swirls of broken plaster were stoically silent as well. No advice here, it seemed.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“I did. I saw the crater and the guitar. You just left it all there, Steven. And Garnet talked to me about how she found you. You were hurt.”

“Connie.  _ You _ didn’t hurt me. My own stupid ideas hurt me. Misunderstanding you hurt me. None of that is your fault.”

“I should have known you were—”

“ _ Stop _ . Stop, Connie. Please.”

Forceful as it was, the plea was a plea regardless. Steven clutched Connie in one arm, his hand coming up to grip the girl’s own slung across. The pain of half-remembered apologies and distorted regrets melded them together like glue. This wasn’t the talk that Steven wanted. Whatever he wanted didn’t matter right now compared to what he needed. The boy took a deep breath before letting go, turning onto his side and looking down at Connie. She had to slide up to look him in the eye. He didn’t know what was worse: the fact that she wasn’t crying; or the fact that she looked like she wanted to and couldn’t.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked.

“Like, tonight? I guess...I just wanted to talk to you, and check in, and we could watch a movie, and I — I wanted to be with you. That’s all. I miss you. We’re…”

In the silence, Steven felt a small grin crack over his face. There, finally, a break in the stoniness.

“Together?”

“Together. More than friends now.” Connie couldn’t keep a shy grin off her face, either.

“Dating? Messing around? Pining?”

“We’re not pining! Come on, you were pining more when we were kids.”

“We are kids. Just older kids, kind of.”

“Old enough to know better. Sixteen years of experience in weird feelings, five of which are weird feelings towards you. Give or take.”

Propped up on his elbow, Steven brought his fingers down to brush away stray locks from Connie’s forehead, just the tip of his nails passing over her skin. The hardest part of all of this was learning how to smile again. With cashiers and hotel managers, Steven found himself wondering if he was being genuine at any point, or if he was smiling because he had to, as if the curve of his mouth was the squiggle of a question mark, an open parenthesis. Moments passed here before he realized he was smiling. Surely that meant something. Surely it meant something that Connie was smiling too.

“I just wanted this to be a good night,” she whispered. 

“It is,” Steven said. “You’re here.”

“C’mon, you’re being schmaltzy again.”

“Can’t help it if I mean it.”

Her gentle laugh was enough to relax Steven’s body for just a second, enough for him to let it melt, let his face slide down. Connie twisted her body on the bed, stretching out her own arms and legs, each muscle shuddering in turn. One of Steven’s arms kept his weight from crushing Connie as the other pressed into the mattress on her other side. She brought her face up to meet him halfway, and the kiss came as naturally as it could ever be, goaded as it was be latent anxiety. The silent room felt like it was echoing now with the sound of lips against lips, a mild wetness and friction. Connie’s mouth pressed into Steven’s, giving just enough leeway for him to sink into her own. At their angles, the lines slid together, complimenting the other. It was a real kiss, as adult as two teenagers could make it. A lifetime of movies couldn’t prepare Steven for the honest-to-goodness sensation, but as long as it felt good to him, and to Connie, then he knew he would never argue. Their lips separated, they each took a breath, and then they kissed once more, holding even tighter with each other. But Steven broke away, his throat caught up.

“Steven?” 

He had to push himself away, up towards the head of the bed. Connie raised herself curiously, and Steven kept a hand attached to her, sliding down her arm to ensure he was still there, still present. The young man turned briefly and moved a pillow, adjusting it so he could sit against the wooden headboard comfortably. Connie smiled along and turned herself. Before Steven could protest, she pushed her body backwards, in between Steven’s legs, sitting up against him and relaxing against his form.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” she teased, reaching up to rub her hands down Steven’s thighs towards his kneecaps. “You’re thinking about me, aren’t you.”

The more that they grew together, the more he did indeed think about her. Steven swallowed, then tried to speak, making a couple small gasps and half-formed vowels before he sighed and forced himself to get his mind together. Connie’s body against him didn’t help. It was entirely possible that she could feel the source of his reluctance already. The girl played a beat on his legs, gentle taps, waiting patiently.

“I’m thinking about you in ways that I shouldn’t,” he finally blurted out.

Steven squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands to Connie’s shoulders. It was a gentle grip, the burden of reality. That was it, the stressor he hadn’t wanted to mention, the one part he knew he couldn’t bear to discuss in detail. Internet diagrams and long talks with his dad couldn’t even begin to prepare him for the actual feelings, the combination of an aching heart and an aching body.

Thankfully, Connie didn’t move out of his grasp, or make a move for the exit. The young woman laughed softly, and Steven watched her stretch out one leg at a time. His thumbs rubbed the space where the strap met the skin underneath her shirt. It was a foreign item of clothing to him, something hidden, something embarrassing, not because of its form or function but more because of the person to whom it was attached. 

“Steven, you know that that’s...normal, right?” Connie said, curling her toes one at a time. “I’d honestly be more surprised if you didn’t feel that way. And that would be okay, too, but I mean, I think I have a pretty good read on you.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Isn’t it obvious that I feel the same way?”

Steven blinked. Obviously, it wasn’t obvious. The kisses were an indication of romantic intent, and the cuddling was as lovely as love could be, but he had never imagined that Connie would see him sexually, or that he would ever be able to express that to her in a way that wasn’t embarrassing. One step at a time, then. The girl let her head fall against Steven as she let out a long, slow sigh.

“Even if you have a hard time saying it, you’re my boyfriend, Steven. That’s what it is. And we’re at weird places in our lives, but we can still love each other, and for a lot of people, physical attraction is part of that. Hate to make it clinical, but it’s human.”

“Does that mean… Connie, I still don’t know what to  _ do _ with all that,” Steven insisted, as he started to massage Connie’s shoulders. “I have… Urgh. I have sexual thoughts and feelings, about you, and then it’s like, we’re older but are we there yet? Are we ready?”

“Are you?”

The question was pointed, not in judgement, but in practical care. Steven kept working with his hands, distracting himself with the thought process. Some places that he had read declared that having sex or even sexual thoughts before getting married was morally wrong, and, well, after his proposal he wouldn’t have been in a place to talk about the honeymoon. He had read all up about the laws in the state, and the importance of both people needing to want each other, to consent. Just asking if the other person was ready technically fit that criteria, but there had to be more than that. The boy chewed on his lip. Feelings were just feelings, thoughts just thoughts. They didn’t hurt anyone but him, and even the physical manifestations when he was alone didn’t hurt anyone but him. Sweating, heart rate, and that now-familiar tension didn’t mean anything except that his body was ready for whatever he could throw at it. As he laid on the bed with Connie, Steven let out a breath he realized he had been holding.

“I’m definitely not,” he mumbled.

“Then we won’t! Easy as pie.”

“But, Connie, what about you? Do you feel ready?”

“Ha!” The girl snorted in laughter. “Mom’s made me carry around protection ever since I told her we were really together, and I’ve had ‘the talk’ at least three times, over and over and over. And you know what?”

She turned her body, curling up on her side. Steven widened his legs as Connie brought herself up closer to him, her head once more leaning against his chest. She held onto him and sighed, shaking her head. 

“None of that matters if you’re not ready too,” she murmured. “In every way. Mind, body, soul, heart, all of it. I...want to be with you, Steven. But I can wait for as long as it takes. And maybe I’m not really ready, either. Feelings about all of this are complicated.”

“Yeah. Oh yeah.”

Their clothed bodies were warm together, and Steven knew it was going to get colder outside. The comforter could help them together, and for the first time ever, they could sleep in the same bed, at the same time, without any prying eyes or parental rules. There was nothing stopping them if they wanted to do anything. Steven’s stomach did a flip, and he breathed out through pursed lips. All he wanted to do was be with Connie right here, right now. He ran a hand through her beautiful black hair, tracing the lines of her scalp. He held on with his other hand, one arm over another. This was what he needed for now.

“What would we be doing now, if we were kids again?” he said, looking off at the blank television screen. 

“Definitely binging bad movies. Or going through that animation list I gave you. Which, I might add, you haven’t made much progress on.”

“I’m on the road, can’t you give me a break?”

“No, and you need to finish  _ Prince Uchu _ before the end of the year or I’ll cry.”

“Only if we can make good food experiments and build a blanket fort for Lion to crush later. I never understood why he wanted to destroy those things so much.”

“Not destruction! Transformation! A rebirth, into a cat bed.”

Given the chance, Steven knew that Lion would love to rest on a bed like this, all curled up with him before vanishing somewhere into the morning light. The inexplicable animal was there for him when Steven needed, regardless of how strange things got. If he thought loosely enough, everyone he knew had a bit of Lion in them — an aloof disregard, a point at which they were comfortable enough in their personal powers where they could do whatever they felt was best, even at the cost of dignity or when it got on other people’s nerves. Steven felt that in him sometimes, and it took a lot not to stamp it out as selfishness. 

It wasn’t selfish to want this, to want to be here with Connie. It wasn’t selfish to hold her for just a moment longer as he needed. She rubbed against him not unlike a cat, in a display of affection he knew nobody else saw. Priyanka and Doug Maheswaran would never be privy to the side of Connie that pressed her forehead against his chest. Greg Universe only saw the small kisses, not the leg that wrapped around Connie’s own and pulled her into a position that many parents would raise an eyebrow at regardless.

They were growing up in the world, but they were also growing up in each other’s arms. One day, Steven knew, he would have the courage to kiss Connie like a real movie star, deeply, passionately, with all the inside feelings leaking to the outside. The lewdness made him shake for a second as the thought left him. No, he wasn’t ready. It all took time. Just like his healing, it took time. Come to think of it, Steven realized that he had been so busy thinking about Connie that all the negativity had slunk somewhere else, evaporated like rain on blacktop. It was waiting for him to be alone again — no, that wasn’t right. There was no force. The feelings were just part of who he was right now. A challenge to overcome, a mountain he had to climb, a towel he had to wring out one drop at a time.

More than anything, he hated the fact that they wouldn’t go away, not even while Connie was there with him. There would be parts in the future where he would break down, where he would cry and yell and tell her how much he hated himself and the world, how scared he was, how all he had done would come down around their heads. It was inevitable.

“Steven?”

“I’m here. I...I’m here.”

“Just checking.”

That was a moment that he didn’t want to think about, because he knew he was wrong. The inevitability was not in the specific events, but merely in the hurdles. How he handled them, how everything went down, how he felt, was all up to chance and experience. Those moments didn’t exist yet. Nothing existed but this. 

A movie was calling to them. Plenty of pleasant distractions could get them through the night together. Connie pulled herself up on Steven’s shirt, grabbing the fabric and tugging herself closer to his chest. He could feel his heartbeat rise, knocking on her sternum like a lone visitor, before wandering down into calmness again, a familiar rhythm, a personal one. Steven curled his fingers up, arching them on Connie’s scalp, a dancer’s legs poised to match the orchestra’s final note.


End file.
